


Victorian Angel

by Cassiebobassie



Series: Castiel, the Angel in our House [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, American History, Anal Fingering, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time, Eventual Happy Ending, First Time, Kansas, M/M, Mutual Pining, My First Smut, Period-Typical Homophobia, Rancher!Winchester, True Love, Virgin!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 22:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12285402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiebobassie/pseuds/Cassiebobassie
Summary: Dean and Sam have moved to Kansas to build their cow ranch. They plan on making a name for themselves and creating a trading empire. Dean knows he should settle down, find what his mom calls a woman who can be the angel of his house, but Dean hasn't seen anyone more angelic than his Kansas neighbor Castiel Milton. While the Frontier Town isn't ready to accept the kind of love Dean feels for Cas, he hopes he and Cas can spend this evening together and start the morning with a plan to build a life with each other at the center.





	Victorian Angel

Cas reclined on the bed, resting on his elbows. Dean tried reading his posture, wondering if Cas was as ready for this development as he claimed to be. Not quite lying down, but not sitting up, covered in a long, gray dressing gown, Cas looked ready to bolt. He also looked perfectly virginal. The sight did not please Dean.

"If you’re scared, I would prefer not to do this, Cas.” Dean said. Approaching the bed, he saw that Cas’s chest was heaving. “We can forget this night ever happened. I want you to be comfortable. I don’t want to feel like… like a rapist.”

"Really, Dean, to use such word at a time like this.”

"Well, your staring at me with huge eyes and your hands are clutching at your clothes. You’re knuckles are white, Cas. I don't feel much like a lover at the moment."

Cas glanced down, tilting his head, making a study of his own body. With a frown and a deep breath, he forced his fingers to open and rest against the bed. "I apologize. I do not want to make you feel awkward, Dean. I want this. Truly."

Dean tried to smile reassuringly and to believe Cas’s words, but what he noticed was this: Cas remained sitting up.

Dean had known Castiel Milton for a year, two months, and some odd days. As a new tenant in the quickly-growing town of Lawrence, he and his brother Samuel had been invited by the Miltons to tea, probably to see which of them would suit their unmarried elder daughter, Anna.

Sam was happy to go. They’d been in towns before where cow men where despised. So Dean’d had to listen for hours about how Sam had known Kansas would be different. How cows were going to over take crops in the state as the biggest industry with its easy access to grazing land and to Texas. How, finally, they were going to settle down and make a place they could call home. Naturally, with his ideas of homesteading, an invite from one of Kansas’s most well-to-do families had Sam in hysterics.

When Dean threatened to get out the smelling salts if Sam didn’t calm down, his brother had teased him with news of the younger brother, who was rumored to be as handsome as his sister was beautiful. Dean just rolled his eyes. Even if this town was more welcoming to men who traded, it wasn’t ready for that. Still, they’d gone to tea. Where Dean listened as Anna Milton pontificated about how “no one could ever dare call Lawrence a backwater now that it boasted 6,500 inhabitants and access to 11 railroads” and how “young ladies in New York or some fine city couldn’t claim to be as accomplished as the women of Lawrence who could also sew, sing, and help bring in a crop.” Dean, who’d been up since before the sun, had nearly fallen asleep in his chair. Until Cas walked in.

Shaking his mind free of memories, he whispered, “Lie down, Cas.“

Cas flattened himself quickly, his body slapping against the feather pillows beneath him. He spread his arms wide and away from his sides. He looked less like a virgin bride and more like a corpse. Dean huffed a laugh, not sure this was an improvement. He watched his friend attempt a smile, but Dean couldn’t help but notice that Cas’s graceful hands—hands which he’d had been fantasizing about for months now—were rigid. His eyes traced Cas’s body. The thick outline of thighs made strong from riding. Lean hips giving way to strong shoulders. Soft pink lips. And blue eyes, eyes he couldn’t see because Cas had them squeezed shut.

"This would be funny if I weren't so uncomfortable," Dean mumbled, unbuttoning his pants to relieve some of the pressure. "Cas, really, please open your eyes. I am not going to pounce on you."

"I know," Cas said timidly, and then he tried to laugh, awkwardly, the sound came out a mix between a cough and braying.

"You sound like a sick mule."

Cas smiled genuinely this time. "I guess I do look a little foolish. I apologize for being so wound up, but… well, the closest I have ever been with another body is youthful wrestling or, well, on the dance floor of some country ball. And even then there was the distance of a few inches and it was only for a few moments… the length of a single song, and… with a young lady and … well now... you... you are going …to be… well...not just...you know...beside me...but...but..." Cas stuttered, waving his hand, commanding the words to get in line and in order. "You are going to be...well..."

“Inside you,” Dean finished in a whisper.

"Yes,” Cas answered on a long exhale. “And though you say you won't pounce, every step you take closer to me, it feels different, somehow, than any other time you have approached me, vastly so. I know, once you reach me, what's going to happen. And thinking of it, I can barely breathe."

“I don’t know what you’re imagining, Cas. And I’m not sure I want to know how you came up with it, but,” Dean took a seat on the bed next to Cas’s hip. “I think this is going to be very different from what you’re thinking. Since you’re so nervous, I guess you need to be properly conditioned first. Let's start more gently shall we?"

"Conditioned?" Cas asked, bewildered.

"It's all right. You just stay, um, on your back, and you can close your eyes whenever you …uh… want, and that’ll let me know to go slow. I’m going to get undressed now. All right?”

"All right." Cas answered timidly, but with what sound like hope, maybe even trust.

Dean stepped away from the bed, and Cas closed his eyes again. Dean was careful to make noise as he walked across the room, so that Cas would know where he was. He talked to to calm him, saying mostly nonsense, but hoping to get Cas accustomed to Dean’s presence and voice inside his bedroom. "There is definitely an, um, intimacy in the act, but I have found in my experience—my limited experience,” he added trying to sooth Cas’s ego without telling him how much he strained to caption his sexual history under such a banner, "Once I am inside you, we both more or less use each other. Sure, poets write about communion, and souls meeting, but it’s more like… you and me have a place to get to. A special place that’s damn enjoyable. And I get there riding you and you get their riding me, but we do not travel together if you know what I mean.”

Cas cracked open one eye, suspiciously. "Are you trying to make me angry?"

"No, of course not," Dean answered innocently. "In a sense the act brings out our animal natures."

Both of Cas’s eyes snapped open with this. And his brows knit together in anger.  
"Animal natures?" Cas repeated, sardonically, almost daring him to repeat it.

"Yeah."

Cas started to sit up, the better to glare at him, Dean supposed.

"No, don’t get back up, Cas.”

With a huff, Cas slammed himself down again. This time, though, his eyes remained open.

Dean went on, laying his shirt and suspenders on the back of Cas’s chair. He stared at his clothes, smiling, happy with his little act of domesticity. Dean and Cas would never build a home together. They were not free to be who they were. He knew that. But it was nice to forget for a while that this wasn’t their room now and never would be.

“The best part of sex, Cas, the most intimate human part, is our,” he coughed, feeling himself blushing to talk about his feelings, “the best part is how close we will be even before I come inside you.” He pulled off his shirt and saw that Cas’s eyes roamed over his shoulders and torso. “I hate always sitting across the room from you. Walking about with ladies just to make sure that nobody suspects who I really want to spend all my time with.” Cas smiled his little half-smile and Dean went on, bending over to work at his boots. “I hate that I can’t ask you to dance, or walk you into dinner. Heck, I hate that I’m only here in your room because your family has traveled to Topeka for the damned weekend.”

Cas gave Dean a soft look, and his lips were raised in that smile that Dean could never read. But he looked thoughtful, a bit intrigued, and a little entertained. He did not look afraid.

"But in here, Cas, before we go mad with passion—”

"Mad?" Cas said, cutting him off, nearly laughing.

"Yes, mad." he repeated earnestly, glad he was making Cas laugh. Undressed, Dean moved toward the bed and sat beside Cas, their hips warm against each other. Dean’s weight pulled Cas close, but Cas did not shift or move away. As Cas settled against Dean’s leg, Cas sobered, his smile disappearing. He swallowed loudly and closed his eyes again.

“The best thing, Cas,” Dean went on in a whisper, “is that everything that came between us before is gone. And it’s just us." He stopped speaking and reached for Cas’s dressing gown, moving slowly, button by button, leaving it closed for now. Cas could feel his movements, and he noticed that Cas was breathing slowly and deeply, probably trying to calm himself down. Finally Dean pushed the shirt away from Cas’s shoulders and his eyes sprang open with a small gasp and he pulled the edges of his gown tight together. Cas was always trying to so hard to be normal, to be the kind of son that his family would be proud of. He was always brave. Always eager. He shied away from nothing. The only times Dean ever saw Cas hesitate was in quiet moments between them. Over the last year Cas had been pulled in two directions, wanting to please both his family and himself. He spent time with his mother’s list of eligible young ladies. And he attended his father’s sermons faithfully. And he worked his family farm with the energy of several men. And for over a year he pretended that all the casual stares and lingering touches he shared with Dean were only the actions of a dear friend.

For his part, Dean had been lost the moment Castiel introduced himself. His broad shoulders. His tan skin. His messy hair. God, his voice. The combined power of Cas’s attractions made Dean’s breeches tight and his mouth dry … and all within sight of his mother as she offered him tea and cakes. But lust like that could be ignored. Dean knew plenty of attractive young men and had never been in love before. But each time he met Cas, more and more of a spell was cast. Dean hadn’t known that anyone could be so kind. So sympathetic to every other person they met. Cas actually enjoyed talking to his father’s poor parishioners. And helping the sick. And delivering food to the hungry. He even volunteered to teach the less fortunate to read, insisting that books and the Bible were key to extending happiness to everyone. And he could ride like no one else, leaping fences with a laugh. And at the gentlemen’s boxing academy, he descended upon his challengers like a warrior, knocking the largest of them flat on their back in minutes. And he gardened, and read poetry, and Dean had never had a better friend. And they were just that, friends.

Dean thought he saw an interest, long glances at his lips, lingering touches on his back and shoulders. But every time Dean leaned in close, shared one of those stares or teased Cas, he hit a wall. Once, Dean had mentioned that the look Cas gave him reminded him of his last bed partner. He thought Cas’s angry glare would burn him alive. Recently, though, the dam had broke when Dean was hurt grazing some of the cattle.

After rushing to Dean’s side when the doctor left, Cas wouldn’t be comforted by Sam assurances that Dean was fine. Cas had sat by his bed for days, waiting on him hand and foot, feeding him, bathing him, and finally… kissing him. Dean would never forget it. Cas had helped Dean out of the bath, getting him situated for bed. As Cas pulled the covers over Dean, tucking him in like a mother would, or a wife, he leaned in, and this time, when Dean moved closer, Cas did not move away. They kissed again and again. Until Cas’s lips were chapped and Dean’s bruised ribs hurt from his over excited breathing. Finally, Cas stood up, blew out the candle, and headed home like he did every night without a word beyond _Goodnight, Dean_. When Cas returned the next day for more nursing, he said nothing of the evening before. But he did kiss Dean, and they had never stopped. Every day of the last two months they had shared kisses and eager touches. And last week, when Cas learned of his parents’ plans to travel, he told Dean we was determined to have something for himself. Dean smiled at the memory though Cas could not see it.

"Cas," he whispered, leaning over him. "Cas," he said again, quietly, but still Cas did not open his eyes. His hands though were finally relaxed--or Cas made them look that way, loosely crossing his clasped fingers over his chest. He was still covering his body, but not conspicuously.Tilting his body, Dean put one hand on either side of Cas, just next to his shoulders. Surprised or curious, Cas finally opened his eyes. Dean smiled widely. “Cas. Don't worry. I won't gobble you up. I just want to look at you, and I want you to look at me. I want to be close to you. That's all."

Cas nodded his head and lowered his arms along his sides.

“I don’t know why I’m nervous.”

“It’s normal to be nervous, Cas. You’ve never done this before.”

“I’ve never had occasion, Dean.”

“I know. I know, Cas. That’s why I’m going to make this good for you. Trust me.”

Cas nodded.

Dean leaned down and brought their faces close, close enough to kiss, yet he did not touch Cas’s lips. They locked eyes and simply stared at each other. After a few moments, Cas smiled at Dean, softly, and moved his head to the right, sliding his cheek against Dean’s hair, inhaling deeply.

“Soft,” Cas whispered. He took a deep breath. “And you smell wonderful, Dean.”

“Got clean just for you Cas, didn’t want to smell of cow when I came to your bed.”

Cas gave a gentle laugh. Cas, too, smelled wonderful, but then again he always did. Dean wanted to lay kisses on his ear, his hair, but he did not. He pulled away, returning to staring at Cas’s face. This time Cas smiled back. Dean laid his cheek lightly against Cas’s soft curls and barely kept from completely burrowing into his hair. He heard Cas take a deep breath. Dean pulled away to meet Cas's eyes again. Cas leaned forward, his head lifting from the pillow. Did Cas want to be close to him? He felt his warm skin, Cas's face close to his jaw. He moved back again, looking at his blue eyes directly. Cas's deep gaze met Dean with greater interest, more awareness. Moving his eyes, he watched Cas's lips. They were slightly parted, a sign of excitement, he hoped. Angling his head a little, he kissed Cas softly and slowly just under his jaw. Then he kissed his ear. Cas trembled. Dean came again, to staring into Cas’s eyes, and for a moment simply stared deep into his blue eyes and passed his long lashes, until growing uncomfortable, Cas looked away. Dean kissed the opposite side of Cas's jaw.

"Dean," Cas mumbled, questioning.

He said nothing, simply returned to looking at Cas. After meeting his blue, unblinking gaze, Dean placed his jaw near Cas’s mouth. He moved toward his scruffy cheek, and Cas closed the rest of the distance, responding to his unspoken request. As Cas moved his rough lips against Dean’s jaw, Dean’s body tightened, and his cock grew thick. He smiled. Cas was right when he said he had a profound effect on Dean.

When Dean met Cas’s eyes again, Cas smiled, too. Cas tilted his soft, scruffy head to the other side, inviting Dean to lean in. Cas lifted his head from the pillow to kiss the underside of Dean’s jaw. When Cas pulled away, his lips leaving a searing wet brand on Dean’s neck, they stared at each other, wondering who would be brave enough to initiate a proper kiss. They stared at each other and long minutes passed, both of their hearts racing, their breathing coming in shallow huffs. Dean kissed Cas’s nose, and Cas giggled, a deep laugh rolling in his throat. When Dean lifted an eyebrow, silently demanding that Cas claim the next kiss, Cas laughed out loud, his joy coming out almost as hiccups of sound. When Cas still hesitated, Dean kissed his forehead, which was warm and wet with sweat. Dean smiled against his skin, happy to see how much he effected Cas. Next, Cas kissed Dean’s head in return. Dean’s eyes locked with Cas’s again, staring again, for the longest time, hoping Cas would reach for more on his own accord. But Dean felt his body grow tense, each muscle locking tight beneath him. Instead of waiting, Dean soothed Cas with kisses to his temples, and Cas breathed a sigh of relief, warm against Dean’s neck.

They looked at each other, Cas’s eyes struck Dean again, as they always had since they met, as the deepest blue he had ever seen. Or perhaps they were blue as any other eyes, or as blue as some bodies of water, but Dean never looked so long into anyone's pools of blue before. Dean always believed that one more second of staring would reveal the nature of the universe to him. Dean felt they told him things about the world and about Cas. These eyes told him that Cas wanted him, but didn't know how to claim him. His eyes, the way they shuttered and blinked told Dean, Cas wasn't sure if a claim on Dean was right. Closing his eyes against Cas assessing stare, Dean moved to kiss nose. He kissed both cheeks, marveling at their ruddy softness. Cas kissed Dean’s cheeks in return and made an surprised yelp at the texture of his hair, mumbling "scratchy." He laughed quietly deep in his chest. As they laughed, their eyes met, sparkling with interest and curiosity. They laughed again, out loud this time. Dean relaxed, putting the weight of his chest on Cas. Cas was warm against his bare chest. Expecting a gasp of surprise, he was surprised when Cas moved his hands up and rubbed Dean arms, running his long-fingered hands along his biceps, his elbows, the backs of his palms. Distributing most of his weight onto his chest and belly, Dean leaned into Cas and lowered his forearms, moving his hands into Cas’s soft, wild hair. Dean tongued softly at Cas’s mouth and pet his hair, carefully spread his palms out, haloing his angular face. Then Dean simply watched Cas’s face and its myriad expressions.

Cas grinned happily and laughed. Dean could feel the laugh along his stomach and chest, in his ribs.

"I'm slightly embarrassed to admit it, but I feel almost giddy, being here with you. I wish you could explain to me the reason you affect me this way and no one else does,” Cas said.

“I think it's clear--by the fact that I am here--that you have a similar effect on me,” Dean said with a suggestive and eager roll of his hips. “Do you want to do something about this feeling, Cas?” he teased, smacking his lips against the side of Cas mouth. They locked eyes again, speaking volumes, making silent promises. After a few moments, Cas looked away, but quickly he moved to kiss Dean fully on the mouth. Lightly, so lightly Dean didn't understand at first, his tongue continued brushing against Dean lips. Dean opened his mouth, and they shared a deep kiss.

After a few minutes, Dean realized Cas was fidgeting below him. Did he want to get away. Dean pulled his face back, trying to map Cas's expressions. When he met Cas's intense state he finally understood that Cas wanted to move his legs. Dean lifted his weight. Cas spread his legs, and Dean fell between them to the sound of Cas's satisfied sigh.

Cas pulled at the edges of his gown lifting the hem above his hips, exposing his rigid cock to Dean’s stare. “Touch me, Dean, please,” he whispered.

Dean’s touch was hesitant, tender. He was willing, at this point, to move heaven and earth to give Cas whatever he wanted. The sensation of touching Cas’s rim and the taut skin on his balls was so strange, so special, it made Dean tremble. Cas’s eyes stayed locked on Dean’s face, his bottom lip caught in his teeth. Cas’s breath was staggered, loud in the room. Dean raised his fingers to his lips and sucked the tips, making them slick. When he reach down, to touch the pink skin at Cas’s entrance, his angel’s eyes nearly crossed. Cas made a soft moan and watched spell-bound as Dean loved him. Cas’s lashes were long, his color high. He was beautiful.

  
“God, Cas, you’re so tight. So warm. I want to kiss you there. I want to pull your thighs wide, and lick you everywhere my fingers touch. I want to mark every bit of your body with my lips. And make every inch of you mine. God, Cas, I want to make you come,” Dean mumbled, working another finger inside Cas.

  
Cas raised his hips, rolling into the touch, riding Dean’s fingers. “You look amazing Cas. Come on, set the pace. We’ll go as fast as you want.”

  
“It burns, Dean.”

  
“Does it hurt?”

  
“Yes, but, oh” Cas yelled, throwing his head back, exposing his throat, “It hurts in a good way. Dean, don’t stop.”  
Cas’s body was taught, his cock high and insistent, raising from his hips, his knees bent, his feet flat, pumping up and down on the bed against Dean’s hand.

  
“Dean, reach into the bedside drawer. I bought something for us to use.”

Dean moved his hand from Cas’s hip, but his fingers remained teasing Cas’s rim. He refused to stop entering Cas. He couldn’t imagine a moment when he would no longer be inside his angel. In the near dark, he found a small jar or oil and poured it over his open palm and fingers.

  
“Faster, Dean, please,” Cas said, melting as the oil touched his skin. “Add another finger, Dean. I want more of you. Please.”

  
"Patience, Cas. Soon. Soon," he promised with a kiss. Dean thought of Cas's sudden eagerness and remembered his own first time years ago. It had been fast and nasty and it burned. Dean had felt branded and changed for ever, and it hurt to mount a horse for over a week. He didn't want that for Cas.

He didn't want Cas to hurt, but he did want them both to feel changed. When this was over would Cas feel like he was a Winchester? Dean had felt marked as Cas’s since before their first kiss. Each look Cas gave him, burned a brand into Dean’s soul. Would their touches today, make Cas Dean’s? God, he hoped so. Even if was wrong. Even if it was selfish.

Fingers slick with oil, Dean and Cas spent long minutes opening Cas, making him ready for Dean’s entrance. “Are you ready, Cas?” Dean asked in the dark

"Yes, Dean, Please. Please. Please," Cas repeated it as a mantra and lifted his hips. Dean climbed onto his knees, pulling Cas toward him, lifting his hips. Cas understood what Dean wanted and wrapped his legs around Dean's waist. “You look so lovely, Cas. I’m going to make you feel so good. So good,” Dean said, smiling, taking his cock in his hand, he pressed the tip against Cas’s warm rim. “Oh, God, Cas,” Dean moaned as his cock breached Cas’s inside.

Cas sat up suddenly and pulled away. “I shouldn't be here."

  
"What? Why?" Dean hissed, disoriented.

  
"I cannot do this. This is madness. I am sorry, but I cannot do this."

  
"Why not? Have I scared you? "

  
"No, I am not afraid. On the contrary, I am thinking clearly. Practically."

  
"If the last touch, the breach, shocked you, I can only tell you that it is normal. But, we could do this the other way. You could enter me, I—"

  
"The breach, normal though it might be for you and for many others, woke me to my own folly."

  
"Your folly? I thought you wanted to be here with me. You insisted. Hell, you suggested it. What happened?"

  
"I'm not used to this, Dean, any of this. I wanted to. I still do, but this is not for me. I have responsibilities to you, myself, my family. And I certainly cannot add to them. I--"

  
"Surely, you know you’re not risking anything here. We can’t get pregnant, Cas.”

  
"Yes, and so this seemed a risk I was willing to take."

  
"And now it does not?"

  
"It is not only that."

  
"This is not the risk?"

  
"I have told you that is not my only concern. I am acting quite out of character, but, coming to it, this seems as far as I can go without changing entirely. Who will I be when you are finished?"

  
"I may not be a gentleman, but I am a nice guy. I promise you, Cas, I would have finished you, too.”

  
"Finished me. I don't presume to understand fully what you mean, but you might have finished me in more ways than you can possibly mean. Already my sister suspects me. Some of my friends will not speak to me. This would give them reason not to. I would have nothing to complain of now."

  
"And you would rather own the right to complain than to--"

  
"It's my body. I have right to say what I am comfortable with."

  
"Silly me. I thought we were talking about my body as well."

  
"Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

  
“Yeah, it's plenty hard already. Any harder and it might painful."

  
"Damn it, Dean, must you be this angry."

  
Dean sighed, loudly, and ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the sweaty stuff angrily. "I am sorry. You need to be comfortable with this. I just... it's not comfortable for me to stop at this point. I didn't mean to be angry. I understand. I do. I just wish you had come to this decision days ago. Hell, 10 minutes ago might have been a better time."

  
"I am sorry. Do you hate me Dean?” Cas asked, and to Dean’s surprise, his voice shook and Cas sounded near tears. Cas went from sounding like a serious secretary to being on the verge of a breakdown. Damn it. What a mess.

  
Pulling Cas into his arms, he reassured him, "Of course, not. I would not be desperate to lie with a man I hated or could hate so quickly. We will remain friends and, of course, business associates. We will return to what we were. I've made a good friend in you. Right?"

  
"Yes, Dean. Yes. I would like it if we remained so. I would hate to loose what we have found together. Your visits are some of the brightest points in my dreary day. I wouldn’t risk any harm to them."

"Cas, you have no idea what it means to me that you're in my life. I don't want to change that."

  
"Thank you, Dean."

  
"Oh, please don't say thank you. It feels like I’m doing you a favor by taking myself off the menu," he said, with forced cheerfulness.

 

"Don't tease me, Dean, really."

  
"I'm sorry, Cas."

  
“I am, too, Dean."

They sat quietly beside each other for some time after. Uncomfortable with the loss of companionable, close proximity, they remained in bed for a while, each content to say little. The silence stretched out, and the world quieted around them, and their own hearts rested.

Dean finally said into the dark, "Have we made a mess of things, Cas?”

"I hope not, Dean. I really do,” Cas whispered.

But Dean knew they had changed things. He could feel a difference already. A distance grew between them—now, when they should be as close as they'd ever been. Dean closed his eyes and prayed to a God he'd long since lost faith in that Cas would still be speaking to him when the sun came up.

Dean was a betting man, a man who read others well. If he had to bet, he'd put good money on this being one of the last times Cas spoke kindly and candidly to him. If tonight was all they had left, he was going to make the most of it. He rolled towards Cas and pulled him into his arms, murmuring, “Just a hug, Cas. Just a hug.” After a minute or two, Cas gripped him tightly in return. Cas’s grip on his bicep was so intense, Dean knew his arm would be bruised by morning.

Cas must feel it, too. The end of who they were to each other. The end of their friendship. The earthly death of all they ever would be.

**Author's Note:**

> This ends with angst. But the series does NOT. I need my happily ever after. This series Is fluff, and it's love, and I promise you'll feel good at the end. Hang in there.


End file.
